


spark

by tallycravens



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallycravens/pseuds/tallycravens
Summary: **CURRENTLY ON HIATUS**Her eyes drift over Libba’s form, her tongue flicking over her lips and Libba can feel her face burning. “Of course, right this way, shortstuff.”“It’s Libba,” she chews her lower lip, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and appearing to be uncomfortable under the taller woman’s unrelenting gaze until she spits out the endearing words, “But...you can call me whatever you want.”Abigail snorts. “That was almost smooth, Libba. Follow me.”//When Libba meets a gorgeous girl at the campus bookstore, she's totally smitten and keeps making excuses to come back to see her. Meanwhile, Raelle has a major crush on her TA, Scylla, and her suitemates won't stop teasing her about it.
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather/Libba Swythe, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this entire story was inspired by the series of photographs of Ashley Nicole Williams in THIS outfit: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EgRKAI3WsAEfhlS?format=jpg&name=large and I'd been planning a TA/student dynamic for Raylla anyway so it fits with this one!
> 
> This chapter is just Libbagail, but will get more into the "unit" relationship as well as Raelle & Scylla as the story progresses :)

Given that the beginning of a new semester means stopping by the campus bookstore to purchase criminally expensive books, Libba Swythe hasn’t exactly been looking forward to it. When she finally crawls out of bed this morning in her brand new off campus apartment, she has certain expectations of what the day will bring. All it takes is one glance out of the kitchen window as she pours her morning coffee to sour her mood. 

The sky is dull gray, the sun completely obscured by the clouds and it is absolutely  _ pissing _ rain. A light drizzle wouldn’t be too inconvenient, but this kind of weather, especially when her shitty car is in the shop and she has to walk everywhere, is like a bad omen. Her semester’s already starting off on the wrong foot, and she doesn’t even begin classes until Monday. After finishing up her cup of coffee, she begrudgingly gets dressed, cursing under her breath as she realizes her umbrella is shoved underneath the passenger seat in the vehicle currently sitting at the repair shop several miles away. 

_ “Fuck my life,”  _ she says bitterly to no one in particular, given that she lives alone. She tugs her hoodie on, pulling the hood up over her curly hair and sighs, thinking about how much it’s going to suck to traipse through the rain. Little does she know, her life is about to get a lot better.

By the time she makes it there, her clothes are soaked through and she’s chilled to the bone, shivering and silently thankful that the heat is on full blast in the small store. It shouldn’t be this cold in August, but it’s already beginning to feel like fall. She’s peeling off her wet hoodie when she sees her with those long legs and dark, piercing eyes, which along with an amused smirk firmly affixed to her face, knocks Libba off of her feet. She thinks this just might be the _ hottest  _ girl she’s ever seen and she can’t keep her eyes off of her.

“You look like a drowned rat,” the girl says cheerfully, chuckling as she shoves a stack of books into a gap on the shelves. 

Libba doesn’t even know her, but she’s already in love. The attractive young woman is wearing a pair of distressed jeans, cuffed just above the ankle, a sharp pair of white sneakers with a black stripe along the side and a gray university sweatshirt, with a pair of translucent glasses perched on her nose. Libba’s pretty certain that she must work here, and as she saunters closer, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders, she notices the name tag pinned to the stranger’s sweatshirt that reads  _ Abigail. _

“Yes, I’m sure I do,” she chuckles mirthfully, lifting her head to meet Abigail’s gaze as she throws her soaked hoodie over the side of a shopping cart to dry. “Please tell me you guys sell umbrellas.”

She finishes putting the books away while she politely answers her new customer. “Of course we do. It’s official university merchandise, and it comes in three different colors. What kind of bookstore would we be if we didn’t have umbrellas?”

Libba self-consciously runs her fingers through her damp curls, hoping her hair isn’t too much of a mess right now. “A second rate bookstore, that’s for sure,” she says, mostly joking.

“You’re exactly right. And it’s your lucky day, because we have raincoats, too. On sale, today only. Looks like you could use one of those.”

She can’t help but chuckle at the saleswoman’s finesse. “No, I don’t need you to upsell me. I’m already going to pay out the ass for my books this semester.”

“Oh, yeah? Which ones do you need?” Libba rifles through her bag and produces a handwritten list, shoving it into Abigail’s waiting palm. Her brows lift along with the corners of her mouth as she glances over the list. “Yup. We’ve got all of them in stock,” she pauses, looking Libba over appraisingly, before asking, “Has anyone ever told you that your handwriting is shit?”

“Literally everyone. Wait,  _ you _ can read my chicken scratch?” That surprises her, because most people are unable to discern her scribbling, except for her mother, who’d grown used to it over the years, but never fails to ream her for it anyway.

After nodding at her, the brunette explains, “My parents are doctors. Are you pre-med? Because with this shoddy penmanship, you might have a future in medicine,” she quips.

“No,” she laughs, casually leaning against the small shelf on the endcap. “I’m actually-” she begins to correct her, but before she can get her sentence out, the entire display goes crashing to the floor. Abigail’s eyes widen, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips and Libba frowns apologetically, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m such a dipshit.”

She bends over to pick up the books that have fallen to the floor as Abigail does the same, their hands unintentionally brushing against each other when they both go to grab the same textbook. When their hands touch, Libba feels a spark and her stomach flips like an acrobat, her pulse racing as she suddenly pulls her hand away. She mutters another apology, hoping that it isn’t too obvious how affected she is by her.

“It’s okay. Not that big of a deal,” Abigail assures her as she places the books back in their designated spot, taking the ones already nestled in Libba’s arms and doing the same with those. “I’m not letting you leave without a raincoat now. Penance for messing up my display. Still, I’ve seen worse. Dare to unfold all my shirts and you will see the true depths of my rage.”

“I would never,” Libba promises earnestly, because she’s worked in retail before and understands how frustrating that can be. She’s still embarrassed that she’d made a mess and more work for the girl that she really wants to impress.

With an appreciative smile and a nod, she states, “After you find your books, grab me and I’ll show you where you can find the umbrellas.”

It’s a small store and Libba’s pretty sure she’d be able to find the umbrellas without Abigail’s assistance, but she isn’t about to refuse spending more time with the attractive bookstore employee. “Great, thank you,” she hums, drumming quietly on the handle of the shopping cart before she pushes it down the aisle, scooping up a copy of every book on her list, save for the biology lab workbook, which is frustratingly shoved nearly a foot above her head. “Uh, Abigail?” She calls out, testing her name on her tongue and finding she likes the way it sounds.

The shopgirl turns to look at her as Libba points at the inaccessible shelf, cracking a smile before she walks over to assist her. She picks up the workbook with ease given the foot of height she has on her and deposits the book unceremoniously into the admittedly cute customer’s cart. “Anything else?” She asks in her best customer service voice, unable to resist teasing the shorter girl who squirms under her attention.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready for that umbrella now.”

Her eyes drift over Libba’s form, her tongue flicking over her lips and Libba can feel her face burning. “Of course, right this way, shortstuff.”

“It’s Libba,” she chews her lower lip, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and appearing to be uncomfortable under the taller woman’s unrelenting gaze until she spits out the endearing words, “But...you can call me whatever you want.”

Abigail snorts. “That was  _ almost _ smooth, Libba. Follow me.”

The wheels on the cart squeal as she pushes it across the hardwood floors, unable to resist the urge to check out Abigail’s ass, which definitely doesn’t disappoint. Fuck, she’s hot, clever, and may actually be flirting with her, else she’s just a  _ really _ good salesperson. She’s pretty sure that Abigail could convince her to buy this entire store if she wanted to. Libba winces when she hears her own wet shoes squeaking on the floor, feeling grateful when they reach the carpeted section of the store because she can’t stand the sound. She tries to covertly wipe the bottom of her shoes off on the carpet, but earns a soft snicker from Abigail when she catches her doing it. 

She’s holding a small folding umbrella in her hand and she unfolds it, offering it to Libba by tapping it against each of her shoulders like she’s knighting her with a sword. “I think one of these mini ones would suit a woman of your stature best,” her tone is sweet but she’s poking fun at her once more.

“I can operate a full size umbrella, thank you very much,” she huffs, pushing past her to pull one of the larger umbrellas from the display. It’s more expensive, but she wants to make a point. “And I’m not mini, I’m fun-sized.”

_ “Are you?”  _

“Yeah,” the student grumbles in frustration, momentarily knocked off of her game due to Abigail’s gentle ribbing. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll show you just how fun I can be.”

Abigail rolls her eyes, but she seems more amused than annoyed by her flirting. “Oh, okay,” she brushes her off, before murmuring, “I think we’ve got some child’s sized raincoats in the back, actually…”

“Get fucked,” she growls, a knee-jerk reaction to being teased for her height.

“Hey now, that’s a bit aggressive, don’t you think? I could’ve told you about the teddy bear raincoats. That would’ve been way worse.”

Teddy bear raincoats? That has to be a joke, but she’s still irritated by the constant teasing, though she secretly loves the attention. In a dramatic huff, Libba crosses her arms to her chest, shooting a glare in Abigail’s direction that just rolls off her, having absolutely no effect on her broadening grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be nice to paying customers? I should complain to your manager.”

“I _ am _ the manager,” she declares with her hand on her hip. “And technically, you haven’t paid yet.”

Her face falls. “Oh. Shit, are you really?”

“No. But you should see your face,” she laughs, grabbing Libba’s shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze as she whispers into her ear, “You’re cute.” Before she can process her words and her lingering touch, Abigail breezes past her, leading the customer over to the clothing section where she’ll find the raincoat that she’s bullying her into purchasing.

It takes a lot to leave Libba Swythe speechless, but this woman has done it. She’s desperate to know her, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to  _ seem _ desperate. She needs some time to figure out her next move and for now, she’ll just try to leave Abigail wondering and hopefully, wanting more. She’s usually so smooth with girls but somehow, she’s a mess around Abigail and while it freaks her out, it also excites her. This is new and she wants to explore it, to see if it’s more than a fun dynamic. She feels chemistry, but can’t help but second guess, wondering if maybe she’s the only one who does.

She throws the coat into her cart with her other items and rolls up to the checkout. When Abigail slips behind the counter, Libba mutters, “Does anyone else even work here?”

“Yeah,  _ why? _ You want to know when I get off?”

Her face heats up. “Uh. No,” she stammers before quickly recovering, “Just hoping that the next time I come here, I won’t be bullied by the staff.”

“Next time?” She lifts her brows as she holds Libba’s gaze. “Is there something else you need?”

Libba can feel her face getting hot, but she swallows as she says, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” Abigail shifts effortlessly into work mode, seeming like an entirely different person at first. “Can you put your stuff on the counter, please, so I can scan it? We’ve got plastic bags, or for fifty cents, you can get one of the canvas ones.”

“I’ll take the canvas,” she answers decisively, before explaining, “Can’t have the bag breaking on me walking back to my apartment.”

Her eyes drift to the window, noticing that the rain hasn’t let up even a little bit since Libba’s arrival. “Yeah, you want me to leave out the coat and the umbrella?”

“Please.”

“Alright,” she scans the last two items and pushes them across the counter to Libba. “Your total is $546.67.”

Libba chokes. “You’re kidding me right?”

“Uh, nope. Sorry,” Abigail sounds genuinely apologetic. “Did you need to put something back?” She can’t help but wonder how often that happens, how many students take their business to the rental places or buy old editions online. The prices are outrageous and everybody knows it.

“No,” she shakes her head, not wanting Abigail to think she’s broke or anything. She has a credit card, that’s what it’s for, but she hates using it. Libba pulls the card out of her wallet and shoves it into the card machine before she signs her name on the screen. 

“Here you are,” Abigail says politely as she hands over the canvas bag. “Receipt’s in the bag.” The bag gets thrown in the cart and when she sees the umbrella and coat, she asks for a pair of scissors. “Why, are you going to stab me for teasing you earlier?”

That earns a laugh, which makes Abigail grin. “Tempting, but no. I was gonna cut the tags off of these.”

“Oh, sure.”

Libba snips the tags off of the umbrella and the raincoat before she hands the scissors back to Abigail, her fingers brushing her palm in the process. That spark she’d felt earlier is still there and her heart jumps predictably in her chest, flustering her as she grabs her things and starts toward the exit. “Thanks. See ya.”

“Libba. Wait,” she calls out over her shoulder.

Pausing, she glances back, a small smile on her lips. “What?” She murmurs, hoping that maybe Abigail is about to ask her out.

“You left your phone on the counter,” Abigail walks toward her and hands her phone over, hesitating before inquiring about the wallpaper, “Is that you and your girlfriend?” 

“No,” Libba laughs, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Shrugging, her eyes never leave her face. “Hm. Good to know,” the words are tinged with a tone of flirtation that catches Libba’s attention.

_ “Is it?” _

“Bye, Libba,” Abigail says dismissively, but winks at her as she shoves the cart back in the corral, leaving Libba wishing more than anything that she could stay and maybe work up the courage to invite her for a drink. 

_ Maybe next time,  _ she tells herself, and as it happens, next time comes much sooner than she expects it to.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail's pleased to discover Libba keeps making excuses to see her and takes it upon herself to make Libba take her on a date.

She’d be lying if she tried to say that Libba hasn’t been on her mind ever since she’d met her that day at the bookstore, but Abigail has refused to tell her suitemates about their little meetcute, only because she knows that they’d tease her mercilessly for it. It would be sweet payback for Raelle after all, since Abigail’s been giving her a hard time about the obvious crush she has on her TA. Had she mentioned Libba to Raelle, she’d have discovered that the two shared a class together, but instead she stays tight-lipped and throws herself into the world of academia until the day they cross paths once more…

Abigail’s in the middle of checking a customer out at the register when Libba strolls inside. She naturally looks up whenever she hears the bell on the door and can’t help but smile when she sees her. After bagging up her customer’s items, she wishes them a good day before coming up behind Libba and scaring the absolute shit out of her. 

“Jumpy,” she remarks with a chuckle, watching Libba browse like someone who has not a clue what they’re looking for. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Not that I’m not happy to see you, shortcake. Did you forget something last weekend?”

She ignores the nickname completely before she answers the question. “Uh, _ yeah,  _ do you guys have planners?” She plucks a classic pink eraser off of the display. “Need one of these, too. The erasers on the mechanical pencils I bought suck ass.”

Not that she’s complaining, but the campus bookstore isn’t exactly the place to go to score a deal on school supplies. “Of course we do. Follow me.” It’s a small store and she has no doubt that Libba can find her way, but she likes having an excuse to spend some time together. 

“How are classes going?” Libba asks as she darts after Abigail to the other end of the store where the planners are stored.

“They’re going pretty-”

The bookstore’s newest employee, Byron, peeks his head around the corner. “Uh, Abigail?” He says her name sheepishly, and she’s pretty certain that he’s fucked something up...again, but she maintains a polite face even when he admits, “I think I messed up the register.”

“Sorry. I gotta…” She gestures toward the register and Libba nods in understanding.

By the time Abigail finishes fixing Byron’s register, there’s a new customer needing her help and like a real professional, gives up her chance to flirt with a cute girl in order to do her job.

It isn’t until the following week that she finally sees Libba again, but she’s definitely on her mind all that time. Abigail has taken to stalking her social media profiles and while she’s got some very attractive selfies, pictures don’t do her justice. Nah, she  _ much _ prefers seeing her in person.

  
  


“Well if it isn’t my favorite Hobbit,” Abigail pauses in mid-sentence with a customer she’s helping to cheerfully greet her familiar guest. “Sorry,” she tells the customer sheepishly before showing them where to find the book they’re seeking and coming up to Libba with a smirk on her face. “Can I help you?”

Libba bites her lip and peeks at her nervously, making Abigail’s stomach flutter. “I, uh, just needed to get an eraser. Calculus has already worn mine down to a useless nub.”

“You came  _ all the way here  _ for another eraser?” She quirks a brow challengingly, unable to keep from wondering if maybe it’s just an excuse to see her. “It’s been, like a week…”

“Yeah, so? I make  _ a lot _ of mistakes, okay?” Libba lets out a flustered sigh.

Abigail snickers, looking at her with amusement plainly written on her features. “I noticed.”

She sounds offended when she asks, “What’s _ that  _ supposed to mean?” Her hands are on her hips and she’s all puffed up like Abigail’s insulted her or something, and it’s honestly the cutest thing she’s ever seen. If she wasn’t at work right now, she’d kiss her, that’s how cute she is.

“Well, you still haven’t asked me out. That’s a pretty glaring oversight on your part,” she points this out, knowing that she’s being a bit forthright, but clearly recognizing a cute girl flirting with her isn’t Libba’s strong suit. She doesn’t mind coming on strong, because she’s almost certain that her interest is very much returned.

She sputters, “I-I...didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“Then you’re as adorably clueless as you seem.”

“Oh, cool, you found each other,” comes the bright voice of Abigail’s coworker Glory, and she furrows her brow as she looks from Glory to Libba questioningly. “Your friend here came by the other day looking for you.”

Abigail can’t help but grin as she watches Libba try to shrink behind the bookshelf. _ “Did she?” _ She asks, barely holding back a laugh because the poor girl looks so embarrassed.

Glory nods emphatically. “Yeah!” She shrugs her shoulders as she straightens up the highlighter display. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Moffett, I forgive you,” Abigail pauses, before adding menacingly, “This time.”

Luckily Glory has grown used to her personality and doesn’t even bat an eyelash at her feigned threat. “Yeah, looks like it all worked out,” she hums, “I’m gonna head to the register. I think I’ve got it covered if you...you know, wanna take your break.” Her tone is suggestive and if Abigail was the blushing sort, her face would be absolutely on fire right now. Thankfully, she has better control of her expressions than Libba seems to.

“Soooo, you were looking for me?” She asks when Glory darts out of sight, licking her lips as she playfully grins at Libba, who’s suddenly walking off to avoid answering the question.

Abigail doesn’t let her get away with it, though, lingering behind her as she walks through the store in search of the eraser she’s apparently so desperate to get.

“No, I just happened to be here, and didn’t see you, so I asked-”

She nods in understanding. “But then you came back.”

“Well...this  _ is _ the campus bookstore,” Libba remarks, refusing to meet her gaze as she focuses on biting her fingernails and steps closer to the school supply section.

She traces her fingers along the top of the shelf, brushing away dust as she glances appraisingly over Libba’s form in the process, not even trying to hide it. “You know, you could buy an entire pack of erasers for the markup price we sell one for here.”

She can practically see Libba’s mouth go dry as she admits, “...you’ve got me there.”

“So, are you doing anything right now?” She presses an eraser into Libba’s open palm, her smirk growing as the girl betrays her reaction to Abigail’s fingers brushing her hand. “Eraser’s on me, by the way. I’ve got that sweet employee discount.”

“I guess not-”

Abigail steps forward, backing her into the shelf and glancing down at the curly haired student who had been on her mind for the past week. “Great, you are now,” she announces boldly, leaning forward to brush a stray curl out of Libba’s eyes. “You’re taking me to lunch. Let me grab my jacket from the back. Oh, and none of that vegan shit, alright?”

She throws a grin at Libba over her shoulder on her way to the back. While Abigail recognizes that she’s taken it upon herself to make Libba go on a date with her, she doesn’t seem to mind it. She makes sure to let Glory know she’s taking her lunch break. “Yeah, yeah, take your time,” her coworker grins knowingly as she scans a customer’s books.

Abigail gives her a spirited salute before grabbing Libba’s hand and lacing their fingers together. She rips off her nametag, shoves it into her purse, then glances up at her speechless date pointedly. “Well? Where are we going?”

She shrugs her shoulders, having not had enough time to formulate any kind of plan. Instead she tells her, “Wherever you want, I guess?”

“So you like it when a woman takes charge?” Abigail knows she’s being a bit much, but that’s just the kind of person she is. She likes to have fun with it, and Libba makes it so easy.

“Um, well, I don’t hate it,” Libba responds earnestly, letting out an anxious chuckle. “Besides, this was your idea.”

That’s true, but it would’ve happened eventually. Abigail just wasn’t willing to waste any time waiting for Libba to work up the nerve to ask her out. “Well, if I’d held my breath waiting for you to make a move, I would’ve died. I did what I had to do.”

“So to clarify, this _ is _ a date?”

Abigail laughs, stopping when they make it outside of the store, and without warning, pulls Libba in for a heated kiss. The chemistry’s clearly there, just as it was with their wordplay that first day, yet she can tell that Libba’s feeling a little uncertain. The height difference is a little tricky, but Abigail makes it work, leaning down and cupping Libba’s face in her hands before releasing her to mutter a playful question, “Does that answer your question?”

“Definitely.” She bobs her head up and down.

After taking Libba’s hand, Abigail starts down the sidewalk, a grin spreading across her face as she glances affectionately at her companion. “You’re _ very  _ cute, do you know that? Be honest, did you really need another eraser?”

“No,” she admits quietly, refusing to meet Abigail’s gaze, “I just wanted to see you.”

Incredulously she rolls her eyes, not understanding why she’d been so hesitant to make her feelings known, as if they weren’t both feeling it. “You should’ve just said something.”

“I wasn’t sure you were interested.”

_ “I am,” _ Abigail assures her, before boldly adding, “I think it’s time we get to know each other a little better.”

Libba shrugs her shoulders, lacing their fingers together as she smiles over at Abigail. “Well, sure, what do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me. What year are you? What’s your major? That kind of stuff is a good start.” After making her suggestion, she swings their arms as they walk together, humming under her breath while she waits for an answer.

Libba doesn’t hesitate. “I’m a sophomore. Physiology. What about you?”

“Junior. Pre-law.”

She laughs when she hears that Abigail intends to go into law. “Oh, wow. I could see that,” she admits, and Abigail knows she definitely projects a certain image, in large part because of how she was raised. Libba tells her earnestly, “My guess was gonna be business.”

“Since I’m such a great saleswoman?” She beams, stopping in her tracks outside of a pub. “How about here? It’s early, so I’m sure it’s quiet. I’ve been here once or twice. Good burgers, and you can buy me a drink.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Abigail blanches, eyebrows furrowed as she meets her gaze. “Don’t sound so excited about it.”

“No, I  _ am,”  _ she assures her, sounding more than a little flustered as she explains, “I just...haven’t really been on a date since high school. I know we don’t really know each other, but I really like you, and I don’t want to mess things up…”

She’s endeared by how honest she’s being, her words tugging at her heartstrings. “Libba?”   
  


_ “Yeah?” _

She puts her hand on her chest, resting above her heart as she looks her in the eyes. “I really like you, too.” Abigail can feel the way Libba’s heart speeds up beneath her palm and she grins before taking her hand and pulling her inside the pub.

After they get settled at the bar, the two of them place their drink and food orders with Libba’s eyes drifting around the small pub. Abigail doesn’t know if she’s avoiding her gaze or if she’s just taking in her surroundings. It’s not much to look at. Hardwood floors, a few shabby booths, some framed sports memorabilia on the walls. She puts her hand on the top of Libba’s leg, making her look over at her almost immediately.

“Hi. I’m still here, you know,” she murmurs playfully, squeezing her thigh, which might be too bold a move by the way Libba reacts.

“Sorry. Hi. I’m nervous.”

Abigail nods, withdrawing her hand to take a drink of her beer. “I can tell,” she says after a moment, before helpfully adding, “I’m not that scary, I promise.”

“No, I don’t think you’re scary,” she explains with a laugh. “You’re just...really,  _ really _ hot.”

If she was the blushing sort, this is when it would happen, with her feeling flattered under Libba’s lingering gaze. “Oh. Thank you. I could say the same about you,” Abigail admits, biting on her lower lip. “I’ve had a lot of thoughts about you since we met.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“Dirty ones,” she clarifies simply, before biting her tongue, worried she’s coming on too strong.

But Libba does the opposite of complaining, “Damn,” she remarks as she sits her glass down on the bar. “Okay. Are you...wanting to get out of here?”

The answer is very much yes, but she has to be responsible and finish her shift. She takes another sip of beer before letting out a sigh. “I’d love to, but I’ve gotta get back to work after this. If you’re not doing anything later though, maybe I could come over? Unless you’re eager for an audience. I’ve got two suitemates.”

“Yeah, you can come over,” Libba agrees quickly, seeming just as eager as Abigail is to get their hands on each other. “I have my own apartment.”

She likes the sound of that, having a place to herself, but things didn’t work out that way for her. “I wanted to do that, but Raelle and Tally were my suitemates freshman year, and now I guess I’m too attached to them to live alone.” She rolls her eyes at the thought.

“Wait, did you say Raelle?”

Abigail furrows her brows thoughtfully. “Yes, why? Do you know her?”

“Doesn’t seem like a common name. I have nutrition class with a girl named Raelle.”

“Short, blonde, braids, kind of a bitch?”

Libba snorts. “That’s her. She’s not that short though. She’s taller than me.”

“Well, that doesn’t take much. You’re basically a munchkin,” she points out with a smirk.

The brunette reacts to her remark with a playful glare, but Abigail’s pretty certain she likes the teasing. “Hey, I resent that!” Libba shouts, earning a look from the bartender before she lowers her voice, “Not all of us can be sexy Amazonian women.”

“Oh, so you think I’m sexy?” Abigail can’t let that comment go and Libba closes her mouth, narrowing her eyes as she looks to her, an unusual expression on her face.

She leans in closer, invading Abigail’s space a little, which makes her heart race as Libba murmurs, “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“I kinda want to make out with you in the bathroom right now.” She blurts out the words without even thinking about it because she’s so overcome with desire for the girl.

Libba chuckles wryly. “While I’d love to kiss you again, I’m not doing it in a bathroom. I’m not making out with you in the middle of a pub either. I’m sure ‘ol boy here wouldn’t appreciate that too much.”

“What, are you some kind of germaphobe?” Abigail teases, her gaze flickering to the bartender. “Pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. Most guys love to watch girls make out.”

She’s too logical as she deftly points out that “bathrooms aren’t romantic, and neither is making out in front of some straight dude.”

“Well, no, but…”

Before Abigail can argue, Libba firmly tells her, “You’ll just have to wait until later.”

“Hmph.”

“So, you like your roommates?” She changes the subject, curious to learn more about the people that Abigail lives with, whom she hasn’t said much about thus far.

Abigail looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she grins and nods her head. “Usually. We’re pretty close. Tally and I have been embarrassing the shit out of Raelle lately because she’s got this crush on some TA.” She rolls her eyes, but Libba distracts her from her feigned when she asks her a question.

“Have you told them about me?”

She pauses before answering, “No,” before explaining, “But that’s only because I didn’t want Raelle to exact her revenge on me. If...things progress between us, of course I’ll tell her. I’ll tell them both. I have nothing to hide.”

“I wasn’t worried about it, but thanks,” Libba chuckles, leaning against the bar as she drains her beer. “Raelle seems cool. What’s Tally like?”

She can’t help but laugh because Tally couldn’t be more different from her or from Raelle, for that matter. “...the opposite of Rae and I,” Abigail informs her with a wide grin, “She’s like, oh, I don’t know. Like the human version of a golden retriever puppy? Energetic, affectionate, always happy.”

“Do you often compare your friends to dog breeds? Do I even want to know what one I’d be?”

“A pug. No question.”

Libba raises her brows at Abigail inquisitively. “You answered that so quickly. I’m kind of offended. What are you?”

“A greyhound.”

She chuckles, leaning forward. “And Raelle?”

“Mm, pitbull,” Abigail shrugs her shoulder like it’s the easiest question in the world.

Libba can’t help but compliment, “You’re weirdly good at this,” and she means it, too, because she’s been spot on with every answer, even if she hates to admit she actually does sort of relate to pugs.

“I was _ really _ into dog shows when I was little,” she explains sheepishly, just a tiny bit embarrassed about something she feels is pretty dorky.

Her date helpfully adds, “I was into dinosaurs.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Abigail interrupts as the bartender brings out their plates, thanking him before she picks up her burger. “Sorry, not trying to be rude, but I missed breakfast this morning,” she laughed before she started to eat.

Libba chuckles, assuring her that she doesn’t mind and beginning to eat her lunch, too, though she isn’t all too hungry. Technically, Abigail’s lunch is already supposed to be over, so once they finish their meals, she doesn’t get to linger around as long as she'd like. She makes sure to exchange numbers with Libba before she walks her back to the bookstore, fingers lingering against hers as she leans against the side of the building.

“Text me your address, and I’ll let you know when I’m headed your way, okay?” Abigail grins before giving her a kiss to remember, heated and passionate enough to ensure that she remains on Libba’s mind until she sees her later.

  
  
  



End file.
